Although it was already dark, the wind was still blowing in the forest, whistling and swaying.

Some animals are still singing lullabies to others with their own music.

Absolutely peaceful nights do not exist.

At this moment, the beasts and predators under the dark night have not rested yet, and are hunting around silently.

They are nature's night watchmen, an important link that connects the vibrant days of the day.

As midnight approached, a terrible storm suddenly blew deep in the jungle.

The wind was blowing violently, with the crackling of branches breaking, and ghostly howls, roars, and wailings.

The dark clouds in the sky transformed into wonderful shapes, the most numerous of which were a flock of **** birds quacking.

"Why are there so many ravens here?" Through the gaps in the jungle, Thorne saw hundreds of ravens with dark bodies and purple-blue metallic luster in the night circling and flying in the air.

In the end, the crows blocked the last ray of bright moonlight.

Then the wind died suddenly, but there was no silence, and Thorne heard the crowing of ravens and the flapping of wings in the air again.

This is a world surrounded by magic, mystery and danger. Ravens are often synonymous with death, fear and bad luck in folklore, and their cries are regarded as bad omen and bad omen, so they are called: ominous birds.

Although this is only a folklore, rangers with knowledge of nature know very well what ravens really stand for, especially ravens in flocks.

Common ravens and crows are considered ominous birds because of their keen sense of smell and the ability to sense the odor of putrefying death.

And these ravens, which can flash purple-blue metallic luster in the night, are called by the very few scholars who really know them: the ferrymen of death!

Because this raven possesses a supernatural ability related to death.

This ability allows them to detect the omen of the impending death of powerful professionals in advance, and then these mysterious black birds will gather around the dying man and sing a sad song for him.

When the professional dies, the souls of the dead are guided to the city of the dead in the Grey Wastes by the song of sorrow sung by the raven.

These purple-blue metallic ravens are said to be the work of Cranvor, Lord of the Dead.

Among the four generations of Lords of the Dead, Jergal represents the mystery of death, Melkor represents the fear of death, Cyric represents the madness of death, and the newly appointed Cranvor represents the justice of death.

Cranwall believes that death is only a part of life, there is no need to fear death, no need to avoid death, and no need to regard death as evil. Fearing death sends you into the hands of beings who can kill you. To die with dignity requires neither a rush to die nor an embrace of immortality.

The church of Cranwal, the **** of death, believes that it is their important duty to find those who are about to die.

Because the wish of this neutral **** of death is: to let every intelligent creature in the whole continent die naturally or unnaturally, there will be a song of sadness sung by a raven by his side to guide him to the correct position in the reincarnation. It needs to be emphasized that the deity of Kelanvor is the great transmigrator who guides the people to the afterlife.

He believes that death is not the end of the end, but the transit point of a wonderful, never-ending journey. Let each of the dead know that Cranwall is waiting for them, and welcome them to a new cycle.

But this is only the wish of the God of Death. If he wants to truly build a perfect reincarnation transfer station, he needs to face not only the demons and devils who compete for the souls of mortals, but also the gods.

Right now, this night.

In a dense forest deep in the Great Sword Mark Mountains, under Thorne's gaze, the raven's high-pitched and loud chorus sounded eerily, as if the whole world was about to die.

Thorne retracted his gaze and watched vigilantly at the back of the Hobgoblin priest who was outside his attack range.

His back was slightly arched, and his right hand involuntarily touched the position of the hilt of the sword.

In this way, in the chorus of the raven's sad song, the hobgoblin priest, whose whole body was shrouded in black robes, stepped on the damp dead branches and slowly turned around.

"I'm really happy to see you come as promised, brave half-elf ranger friend." The Hobgoblin priest stared at the ranger who was holding his sword hilt not far away, and his weak tone revealed an undisguised joy. .

"Friend?" Thorne's expression was still tense, and his tone was very flat:

"To be honest, in the entire Emerald Wilderness, the race I hate the most is the hobgoblin. I feel very awkward and instinctive to make friends with a hobgoblin. However, if you are, I can accept this title. , Hobgoblin sacrifices to friends."

"Thank you for your tolerance and understanding." Under the vigilant gaze of the Ranger, the Hobgoblin priest slowly stretched out his right hand, stroked his chest with one hand, bowed slightly towards him, and sincerely thanked him.

"Then, you can tell me why you invited me here." Thorne bowed to the Hobgoblin priest in return, and then asked straight to the point.

- "Perception magic!"

Suddenly, he noticed that something was wrong with the slightly weak-looking priest, so he immediately activated the professional characteristics of the kendo master, his eyes were slightly lowered, and he focused on feeling the free magic energy in the air.

Seeing the brooding ranger, the Hobgoblin priest said nothing and waited silently.

The gloomy north wind swayed the ferocious shadows of the trees in the dense forest, and the croaking ravens continued to sing songs of sadness, as if they were playing a symphony of death.

"Your power is draining." Thorne raised his eyelids, looked hesitant, and expressed his inner guess.

"It seems that you feel it too." The body of the Hobgoblin priest trembled slightly and replied slowly.

"I have received an oracle from the Almighty." Seeing Thorne's silence, he continued: "The content of the oracle is: to unite the gnolls and hill giants of the Great Sword Mark Mountains at all costs, and remove the emeralds. All the forces of the wilderness."

When Thorne heard the words, his eyelids jumped uncontrollably, but his expression did not change.

This kind of sudden situation has been counted by them for a long time. The wizard tower in Waterfall Town, including many ranger scouts, is also closely watching every move in the Dajianhen Mountains.

Because the five towns of the Emerald Wilderness are about to fight the Hobgoblin of Heruk in the outskirts of Tranquil Forest.

If the gnolls and the hill giants are united to attack from the Dragon Falling Canyon at this time, they will be in danger of being attacked by the enemy.

Even if the decisive battle with the Hobgoblins is won, the rear will be attacked by gnolls and hill giants, causing immeasurable losses.

If the gnolls and the giants of the hills are really found in the joint operation, they must divide a part of their forces to guard the main road of the Falling Dragon Canyon.

This also means that the battle ahead will become more difficult, which is not what everyone wants to see.

"That's why you invited me here." Thorne pondered for a moment, looked at the obviously weak Hobgoblin priest, his tense body slowly relaxed, and his vigilant expression eased a lot.

As if he understood everything, he tentatively took three steps forward, and he found that the weak hobgoblin priest was indifferent, just nodded slightly to himself with a smile on his face.

However, Thorne thought this kind of smile was not good-looking at all, because he not only showed two pointed yellow teeth, but also looked like an old man who was dying.

At this moment, Thorne finally understood who the raven hovering above his head was singing the sad song for.

"Why do you want to do this?" Thorne looked at the already weak Hobgoblin priest who started to bend over in confusion.

Facing the ranger's question, the Hobgoblin priest straightened his back with a little difficulty, moved his steps to a relatively open space, and then sat on a tree trunk that was broken by the frost giant's hammer, looking up to meet the group. The raven sighed with emotion:

"There are two tragedies in each of our lives, one is complacency and the other is despair."

"So, this is your choice." Thorne was silent for a while, and went straight to the Hobgoblin priest, sat with him on the tree trunk, and looked at the ravens in the sky.

Their black feathers, which merged with the night, shone with a metallic purplish-blue metallic sheen, and their chorus was high and loud.

The chorus seems to tell itself that death is not the opposite of life, but a part of life that continues forever.

"Yeah." The Hobgoblin priest seemed to be touched by something. He looked at the overgrown land and sighed deeply:

"Humans are all sentient beings, and when you are surrounded by loneliness, a certain nostalgia will grow stronger.

When I sit in the house reading a book, when I sit alone on the bedside late at night and have trouble falling asleep, or even when I fall asleep soundly, a certain memory will always be like a movie, scene by scene in my mind strobes.

In the end of life, you keep letting go, but the most distressing thing is not being able to say goodbye. So, I don't like this kind of life at all. "

Thorne looked again at the hobgoblin priest shrouded in black robes.

For some reason, he actually felt the loss of some kind of divine power of the other party, and also felt that his blood was constantly declining.

In the body of the hobgoblin priest, Thorne saw the feeling of helplessness exuding from him, like a ship going out to sea at dusk, the road is unfamiliar, and it is still far away.

"I'm not a person who is too good at comforting others. I only know that there is nothing to do in the day of yesterday, and there is nothing to do in the day of tomorrow. Only by cherishing the present, the lives we have left here will be like the sunshine by the water, with warmth. The ripples, like the starlight at night, illuminate our way forward."

Thorne looked up at the moonlight blocked by the raven, and comforted the Hobgoblin priest: "Time will change everything, because it will make problems that we can't figure out less important."

He knew that the other party had been punished due to betrayal of his own god, so that the **** of death pressed him step by step, but he could not help but persuade the hobgoblin player in vain.

Because that's all he can do, just like the paladins he met in Winter City, he can't change anything.

"Have you brought me your things?" The Hobgoblin priest smiled indifferently, as if he had looked down on everything, "Actually, I never thought you would come here in danger, after all, Helu The ghouls..."

"These are not important anymore." Thorne reached out to stop his next words, and then took out a small packet of flower seeds wrapped in parchment:

"You're right, I didn't intend to accept your invitation. The main reason why I came here was actually moved by this trivial request you made to me."

After he finished speaking, he pulled out his sharp sword, dug pits one by one in an open space, and buried all these flower seeds in the soil.

"Thank you for fulfilling my last wish." The Hobgoblin priest wanted to stand up and salute the busy ranger, but unfortunately his body became extremely weak and it was difficult to move at all.

At this time, he could only try his best to suppress the power of death that emerged from his body and retain the last trace of sober consciousness.

"It's just a hands-on effort. In fact, I should thank you for your sacrifices for our compatriots. I also thank you for not directly launching a general attack on these precarious towns when the Heruk Hobgoblin settled in the Serene Forest." Thorne sincerely thanked the Hobgoblin sacrifice as he sow.

"Only my own compatriots can truly understand the difficulty of their own race, because they can always find an inexplicable intimacy in each other, but I am a voter of the Almighty, which means I have no choice. ." The Hobgoblin Sacrifice supported his gradually disintegrating consciousness and smiled helplessly.

"Voters, so it is." Thorne paused for a moment, and finally understood the reason.

If the opponent is just an ordinary priest, he can easily join other camps if he loses his priest's rank, but the voters are different, and the voters who betray their own beliefs cannot escape the wrath of the gods.

- "Three Rings Magic: Plant Growth!"

In the night where the wind was howling, accompanied by the whispering of divine spells, the seeds that had just been buried by Thorne immediately burst out of the ground at a speed visible to the naked eye, took root and sprouted, and finally bloomed one after another with rose-colored thorn roses.

"Farewell." Thorne bowed to the Hobgoblin priest who was very excited after seeing the thorn roses, ready to turn around and leave.

The other party is suffering from the pain of losing his divine power, and is likely to usher in the divine punishment of the Almighty, so it is very dangerous for him to stay here and he must leave as soon as possible.

"You said that after we people die, can our consciousness really return to real time?" Suddenly, the Hobgoblin priest held a sigh of relief and asked abruptly.

When Thorne heard the words, his footsteps stopped, and he subconsciously looked up at the raven known as the 'Death Ferryman', which was still hovering in the night sky.

The high-pitched and loud wailing sounded as if the whole world had died.

In a trance, he seemed to see a transparent skull with a hood appearing in the flock of ravens. This head was wrapped in a translucent gray robe and flew with the mournful wind.

"That's right! As long as you die in this world, your consciousness will soon be transmitted to the real world. Congratulations, you can go home soon." Thorne looked at the circling raven with a firm expression, and answered the other party's question very seriously. question.

Then, without hesitation, he disappeared into the depths of the dense forest that turned into a hideous shadow.

"That's really good..."

A gleam appeared in the pale yellow eyes of the Hobgoblin priest, he raised his right hand with difficulty, and used the last of his strength to use the simplest light spell.

The splendid thorn roses swayed gently in the breeze as the soft and bright light dispelled the deep darkness.

Looking at the beautiful flowers, the dazed expression of the gnome sacrificial was dazed for a moment.

He thought of the thorn roses in his hometown, which were everywhere.

Every May Festival, a season when thorn roses are blooming, standing alone and looking at it, it is like a red sky falling from the sky, dyeing the field and hometown red.

He was like living in a pink world back then.

The blooming flowers, the color of rouge and the shape of fine lotus, are lined with broad and round green leaves and busy flying bees and butterflies, and they are filled with a strong fragrance, which makes people feel as comfortable as drinking fine wine.

At first glance, these newly bloomed flowers are really exactly the same as he remembered.

Just like the thorn roses in my hometown.

…………

Thorne, who returned to the tower, was lying on the bed with his hands on his head, staring at the magic crystal lamp on the ceiling in a daze.

"What happened, I was lying there feeling unhappy as soon as I came back." Andrina sat in front of the mirror, lightly combing her long shiny black hair, and looked at the half-elf in the mirror.

"Nothing." Thorne replied casually.

"Tell me, how uncomfortable it is to hold it in your heart." Andrina put the considerable lineup of bottles and jars on the dresser to their original positions, and put the comb in the drawer.

Dressed in a white nightgown, she walked to the bed and lay down next to Thorne.

"Do you think we can really return to the real world after we die?" Thorne sighed and hugged Andrina beside him.

"Impossible, someone has witnessed the 'Death Ferryman' sent by the Lord of the Dead, Kranwo, to guide the soul of the dead to the City of Death." Andrina pulled the quilt and twisted her body to facilitate the removal of the dead. She took off her nightgown and snuggled into his arms.

"Then why do people like to ask knowingly before dying."

"This is a kind of magic similar to psychological suggestion. Some people's strong beliefs before death will allow them to successfully deceive themselves. It can also be regarded as a method of self-comfort."

"I see."

"Don't think about it there." Andrina put her head on Thorne's chest, feeling the breath that became smooth and rhythmic, and said softly, "Sonne, go to sleep."

…………